


Hayfever

by Dragonlingdar



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Allergies, Fluff without Plot, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 17:18:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19468543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonlingdar/pseuds/Dragonlingdar
Summary: Alfyn was pretty sure that hayfever precluded Cyrus from ever being successful as an apothecary.





	Hayfever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uncles_sister_pikes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncles_sister_pikes/gifts).



> It has Alfyn and Cyrus, so hopefully it counts? I hope you enjoy!
> 
> As an aside, I am not your assigned creator; nevertheless, I hope you are satisfied by my offering as well.
> 
> As I am from Ye Olden Times: Nothing Octopath Traveler belongs to me.

“Y’know, it’s not polite to steal things from people’s bags,” Alfyn said, to which Cyrus responded with a cheerful smile.

“It’s not stealing when I fully intend on returning your book,” Cyrus replied. “We’re nowhere near a library, and I doubt that I could find a more comprehensive resource on the medicinal properties of plants than your notebooks. It’s fascinating how such simple-looking flora can provide near miraculous benefits in the hands of a skilled healer. You truly are an exceptional man.”

“Uh, thanks, but I’d really like my notes back.”

“And you shall receive them once I am done taking notes of my own. Perhaps I could do some field work with you, as it were? According to what you have written, there are quite a few plants native to this area that have seemingly wondrous properties if utilized correctly. If you’d teach me, I’d love to learn to create basic poultices and tinctures.”

“I guess, if you’re really  _ that _ interested...” Alfyn said. However, it was obvious that Cyrus was no longer paying him any mind, focused instead on transcribing Alfyn’s meandering notes into a book of his own. 

_ I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone write that fast, _ Alfyn said and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just don’t copy the letter,” he said, abruptly remembering that he had stored Zeph’s letter in that particular notebook.

“Oh, don’t worry, that’s still in your bag. It wasn’t your handwriting; thus, I ignored it.”

_ Well, that’s somehow both rude and nice, _ Alfyn thought. “How much longer do you think it’ll take you?”

“About an hour, maybe less if you stop interrupting,” Cyrus said. Alfyn knew Cyrus well enough that he understood that Cyrus wasn’t being  _ dismissive _ , just absent-minded, although Alfyn was sure not everyone would see it like that. 

_ His focus really is intense, _ Alfyn thought.  _ I doubt he even knows we’re talkin’.  _

About a half-hour later, Cyrus approached Alfyn, looking quite pleased with himself as he idly massaged his wrist. 

“Here you go!” he chirped and handed Alfyn his notebooks back. “The contents were truly fascinating, and your individual side-notes and corrections were even more so. The astute and precise process of scientific inquiry that you displayed within is quite different from your general relaxed demeanor. I am glad that I was afforded a glimpse into your complexities.”

_ Didn’t really have much choice since you  _ stole _ my books, _ Alfyn grumbled internally. “Well, could you tell me what plants are around here and what they can be used for?”

Cyrus immediately rattled off the names of every species of plant in the Riverlands, particularly in their general area, and what each could be used for--from healing to poison--even listing a few that Alfyn had forgotten. 

“However, only a few would be flowering or in-season, as it were,” Cyrus continued. “May we go looking for those? Your drawings and description were occasionally vague, so I was hoping to add my own sketches and observations so I know what to look for, should I not have your bountiful knowledge at hand.”

Alfyn found that he now understood what Ophilia had meant when she said that Cyrus’ full attention was both flattering and alarming. 

“S-sure,” Alfyn said with a smile. “Let me get the tools I’ll need to harvest things.”

Cyrus happily trailed after him, and compared each tool Alfyn retrieved from his bag to something in his notes--and, if it was lacking, he added a drawing and all the information he could pry from Alfyn. 

“This way,” Alfyn said and gestured that Cyrus follow him. The flowering plants that were most abundant and useful in the Riverlands were found near water, and Alfyn remembered seeing a nearby brook that could potentially have the plants.

As they walked across fields of softly-swaying, but medicinally useless, flowers, Cyrus sneezed.

“You okay?” Alfyn asked.

Cyrus nodded. “There aren’t as many flowers in Atlasdam as here,” he said, and sniffled slightly.

“Well, you let me know if you’re not feelin’ well. Can’t have you gettin’ sick.”

“Of course!”

Alfyn took a deep breath of the air as they meandered along and let it out in a sigh. While he enjoyed helping people, there was something nice about simply being in nature, letting the plants and animals speak to him and reveal how they may help ease human suffering. 

Cyrus, however, was sneezing and sniffling fairly often.

“Are you  _ sure _ you’re okay, Professor?” Alfyn asked. 

Cyrus paused, thought, then shook his head. “It’s only since we entered this field that I began to feel queer. I can’t seem to stop sneezing and my eyes are quite itchy. You, however, seem to be perfectly at ease.” 

Alfyn smiled. “Think you got hayfever, Professor.”

“Pardon?”

“I think you might not be cut out for bein’ an apothecary if you can’t handle a little pollen.”

“So, you also think the flowers are the cause?”

“Yup,” Alfyn responded. “But, don’t worry. I see the brook up ahead. Hopefully there’ll be what we’re lookin’ for there.”

“That would be lovely,” Cyrus said before sniffling.

They were in luck and the plant was indeed there--and, from how there was a pale yellow dust on the edges of the stream, it looked like the Riverlands’ spring was in full swing. 

“Hey, Professor, come here and watch me,” Alfyn called out. Cyrus walked over, rubbing his eyes in a futile attempt to relieve their irritation. 

Cyrus crouched down next to Alfyn, who took out a specialized knife and carefully harvested each part of the plant--its leaves for tea, its petals for a salve, and its roots for a powder. 

“There’s another one down a-ways,” Alfyn said and pointed to another in a slightly more shaded and protected area of the brook. “Maybe you can practice on it and show me what you learned.”

Cyrus nodded resolutely, in spite of how his eyes were fairly red and tearing. 

It was somehow both pitiful and oddly satisfying--nature’s retribution on Alfyn’s behalf for Cyrus wandering off with  _ Alfyn’s _ personal notes. 

Cyrus worked carefully and slowly, pulling away each time he had to sneeze to make sure he didn’t accidentally cut, pick, or crush anything that he hadn’t intended.

“You know, if nature actually liked you, you might make a good apothecary yourself,” Alfyn said as Cyrus placed the harvested plant in the same compartments and in the same manner that Alfyn had. 

“I think I shall be much happier with my books,” Cyrus agreed, “and will leave flowers and medicine to those more suited to such pursuits.”

“Still want to learn how to make some stuff?”

“Of course! I just never want to have to obtain the reagents on my own.”

Alfyn laughed and clapped Cyrus on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get back to camp so you can recover.”

Cyrus nodded, relief briefly flitting across his face. “Actually, is it possible to make such a thing as I would need to remedy my current situation?”

Alfyn paused. “Huh. Dunno. Do you remember seein’ anythin’ in my notes?”

“I believe so, but it is one thing to know and a different one to understand.”

Alfyn nodded, even if he didn’t fully get what Cyrus meant. “Right. Maybe we’ll try to find a different way back to camp that doesn’t require goin’ through that field.”

“Lovely,” Cyrus agreed and pointed up the brook. “If I recall what H’aanit said, there is a path close to the spring that this brook originates from. Therefore, if we follow the brook, we should eventually run into the path. Shall we see if such is the case?”

“Sure, why not? Always up for an adventure, and I can quiz you along the way!”

Cyrus perked up at that and gave Alfyn an alarmingly charming smile. “Wonderful! Let us head out. I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a few questions as well?”

“No, not really,” Alfyn responded and fell into step beside Cyrus. 

“Well, then. How exactly were the medicinal properties of these plants discovered?”

Alfyn had a feeling he was going to regret agreeing to answer Cyrus’ queries.


End file.
